


Three milkshakes and New York disasters

by moon_hedgehog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Multi, Science Bros, and everyone loves milkshakes, love is everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: Tony suffers from unexpected memory problems, and New York, meanwhile, lives its own life.





	Three milkshakes and New York disasters

**Author's Note:**

> i don't need Infinity War, i need fluff, and cookies, and hugs.  
> _  
> post-Avengers AU with post-Winter Soldier timeline.  
> i think.

Today, Tony Stark woke up with a feeling that something was terribly wrong. He stared at the ceiling – trying to gather his thoughts and sensations in order – for so long that JARVIS's voice made him jumped in bed.

“Are you all right, sir? Your blood pressure has gone up.”

Billionaire frowned, ran a hand through his ruffled hair and took a deep breath.

“Jarvis, remind me, what day is it?”

The crackling of the mechanical voice did not fail to respond immediately:

“Friday, September 15, 2015, sir.”

Tony frowned harder, vainly trying to understand why his previously sound asleep fifth sense started to scream with Fury's squeaky voice.

“And we have something planned for today, Jarvis?”

Sometimes, Iron Man thought that he's giving too much freedom to his offspring. And now, hearing JARVIS's surprisingly mocking tone, he snorted discontentedly, casually jumping out of bed and stretching lazily.

“Sir, some days ago you've personally ordered me to cancel all your meetings for today on a special occasion.”

Tony choked, grasping at the crunchy back, and rubbed his neck, completely puzzled.

“For what special occasion? I don't remember anything!”

The butler only hummed – if he could, he had probably shrugged, thought Stark – and turned tiny camera's eye toward the kitchen.

“I can not know. Shall I make you a milkshake, sir?”

 

At 12 o'clock in the morning, Tony was dressed in an expensive suit, with dark aviator sunglasses on his head and a tight blue tie, peacefully resting on his chest. He didn't know what, but something definitely wasn't right, and this made him nervously pacing in front of the panoramic windows with a magnificent view of New York. Artificial butler continued to attentively monitor him, periodically allowing himself a restless timbre of the voice.

“Sir, no need to worry so much. I'm sure by the end of the day everything will clear up. Better have another milkshake.”

“To hell with you and your milkshakes, Jarvis!” Tony snorted angrily. “You're no better than Clint, who's running after his God-guy with puppy eyes… Wait...” Philanthropist jerked his beard thoughtfully and rushed to the phone.

A few minutes of annoying already nervous Stark beeps, and on the other side someone sneezed, coughed and snorted in displeasure.

“What do you want?”

“Hawkey, darling, any chance your boyfriend accidentally engage in plans to seize the Earth? Again,” Iron Man singsonged with cloying and mocking tone, narcissistically correcting his tie.

By the heavy sigh on the other side of the phone line, he guessed that Barton had obviously rolled his eyes. Something rumbled, and Tony's suspicions only intensified.

“No, Tony,” Hawkeye echoed to him, “my boyfriend locked himself in his office and continues to scrutinize this ancient Svartalfheim scrolls. And I, if you want to know,” rumbling repeated, “is busy in order to protect our apartment from complete destruction.”

“Destruction?” Stark raised at the tips of his heels, nervously licking his lip.

“Yeah,” Barton hissed, muttered indistinct curses, and barked so loudly that the billionaire abruptly stretched out: “Leave the TV alone, you, furry bastard!”

For several minutes a blessed silence reigned; Tony shamelessly decided to interrupt it.

“Listen, are you alright there?”

“Everything is just wonderful,” crackling, crashing. “Loki just decided to drag his lovely little beast in our house, because, you see, no one wants to play with him in Asgard. So he's sitting in his cabinet and I, you see, must entertain.”

Iron Man lost his tongue in confusion, murmured something like “well, then, bye for now”, and quickly pressed “end call” button.

 

Two hours have gone by – Tony still couldn't get any work done. He managed to pass the Tower up and down, which, unfortunately, didn't help him recall the forgotten. JARVIS accompanied his journey with a monotonous mumbling:

“Sir, you need to calm down, there's no need to worry, there hasn't been any attack on the planet for a year, from crimes we have only...” and so on.

Playboy and philanthropist had asked himself what's with his memory for hours - “wrong” feeling made his misery even worse. Went down in the garage, Stark twisted around the supercars, run an eye over the Audi R8, and climbed back to the lounge area. And when the idea of “getting drunk, can help” caught fire with the neon sign in his head – Natasha called.

Before he could say anything, a businesslike, masculine and completely not Natasha's voice hastily gibbered in his ear:

“Oh, um, Steve said these things work like that… In any case, you're kind of, from the Avengers, and you should know Natalie's favorite flowers.”

Stark was taken aback for a moment, glasses slipped to his nose and hung there.

“Barnes, why the hell are you calling from Natasha's phone?” And even more indignantly added: “And why the hell should I know about her favorite flowers?”

The Winter Soldier fell silent, and this silence perceptibly pressed the Iron Man's shoulders. A drop of sweat rolled down Tony's cheek.

“You're from the Avengers,” Bucky brought this indisputable argument again. “And I don't have my own phone yet.”

Billionaire rubbed his temples painfully. Romanov's romance with this epileptic, aggressive and on all flanks strange man was incomprehensible to him. Yes, they had a common past: training in the Red Room, forbidden defective love – so what? Anyway, the fact remained a fact – after S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole and Steve separately managed to catch and rebrainwashed Barnes, Natasha settled him in her own flat, walked with him hand in hand, and generally reminded Stark the above-mentioned Clint.

“Look, the fact that I'm from the Avengers doesn't mean that I know the biography of these Avengers to the smallest detail. I mean, I know it, of course,” Tony corrected himself. “But not their personal preferences.”

In space and matter thickened an awkward silence, and when the billionaire was about to brazenly disconnect, the Winter Soldier suddenly came alive:

“Well, what am I supposed to do then?” Bucky's genuinely upset voice sharply brought down Stark's hubris.

“Look, I really don't know.” Tony nervously looked around the living room. “But I think, maybe… A woman like her probably loves red roses. Or just roses. Classics, in general.”

“Classics?” muttered Barnes, pensively puffing into the phone.

“Well, as you say… Thanks for the help.”

“Wait!” the genius unexpectedly broke into a scream, which frightened stammered Bucky, buzzing JARVIS, and himself as well. “Stop, wait! Are you all right there?”

“Yes,” answered the Winter Soldier cautiously.

“No problems? Dangers? Sudden deaths?”

“No,” Bucky continued with the same caution.

The Iron Man jerked his beard again and muttered in confusion.

“Good, good...”

 

After the second milkshake for the day, Tony for good and all decided that everything was just a figment of his imagination – everyone was fine, and even Fury's voice seemed surprisingly melancholy to the scientist. He couldn't, however, engaged in his favorite inventions – his hands continued to betray him. Keeping on aimlessly walking in his possessions, Stark carried along his wrenches, mixed with the keys to the machines, mixed with unknown alien weapons; all of this occupied his hands and didn't let him slip into the abyss of despondency. When he finally returned to his room, JARVIS hummed:

“Sir, maybe you should call Peter Parker. I heard he's making great strides in saving New York.”

“Yes, especially when sweeping for his psychotic friend,” snapped Tony, pursing his lips.

Relationships (though Stark sincerely hoped that that's not true) between Peter and his insane, regenerating partner put normally sarcastic and cynical Iron Man in a nervous, wrought-up condition. He frankly couldn't understand why his “almost son” hung out with such persons. The Avengers tried not to touch this topic at all – especially after Stark nearly roasted Barton's hair for his greasy jokes (only his heavenly boyfriend saved Clint from complete cooking).

“Mr. Wilson is trying to please you,” butler droned. “Do not judge him so severely.”

Tony frowned squeamishly, remembering the “trying”. Certainly, Wilson wanted to draw his attention – that's just unlikely that the corpses shaped in Stark's surname could do it properly. And what a sensation it was – so pretty graffiti under the windows of a billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist!

“If Peter needed my help, he would've called,” Tony muttered, uncorking a bottle of an old cognac.

Not otherwise than by a sign of higher forces, a very familiar name appeared on his phone at that moment.

“Hello? What happened?” Stark jumped nervously, losing his false calmness all at once.

Spider Man first even hesitated from such pressure.

“Um, hello, Tony. Yep, nothing wrong, listen, I just wanted to ask… er, Wade and I argued, and… in general, please lend me one of your armors, eh?.. pretty please?”

For a while, Iron Man stared into space in complete bewilderment, until he burst into a wrathful tirade.

“Tell Wilson not to dare – it is clear, not to dare?! - draw you into his idiotic escapades. If he wants to ruin his life – please, no one is holding him, but...”

“Ok, ok, clear, I understand!” screamed Peter and quickly disconnected, leaving an angry breathing Stark to the accompaniment of JARVIS's exhortations:

“Relax, sir, relax...”

 

The cognac was forgotten, Tony furiously stirred a milkshake with a straw, trying to calm down. Everything was wrong! Today everything was like in a stupid movie! And what, for Jotun's sake, he managed to forget, and why he hadn't informed JARVIS about that?!

The phone rang again; Tony grabbed it without looking and barked:  
“Stark Industries listens!”

On the other side, someone awkwardly coughed, but Tony would've recognized this voice from a thousand.

“Bruce? You?.. why are you calling? Something happened? Need a help? Is the big guy out of control again? How are you?”

“God, Tony,” Banner laughed hoarsely. “What happened to you? And you're calling _me_ nervous.”

Stark confusedly snorted, not wanting to admit his state.

“I'm at the airport, by the way,” Bruce continued. “Waiting for you, so come here, until I catch a cold, otherwise you'll have to treat me.”  
The first comprehensible playboy's thought - “wait, what?” - was buried in a ton of vague, rushing considerations. Bruce at the airport? Waiting for him? What?!

Somewhere over the ear, JARVIS obligingly purred:

“It seems, sir, you called Mr. Banner to us for an autumn holiday once.”

Of course, of course he called! But Bruce simply and stubbornly continued to hang around in his Eastern countries, leaving the team with little or no support. So when he managed to agree?!

“Tony, you said you'd tell Jarvis to remind you,” Bruce sighed tiredly. “You even bought me a plane ticket, if you want to know.”

Stark jumped up, hurriedly putting a forgotten jacket on his shoulders, grabbing the nearest car keys and trying to fix the folds on the trousers on the run.

“Bruce, what the hell is going on?”

The scientist sniffed and hissed:

“As I thought, you forgot, hopeless drunk. You bought me a ticket back in mid-August when I agreed to look at your new device.”

Yeah, it wasn't the best moment in Tony Stark's life. He remembered how frankly he had gotten drunk from loneliness and came to communicate with the Avengers in a special team chat; but the future of this plan was terribly foggy.

“Ah, er, yes, device...” now he had to think fast. “Of course, I remembered! Oh, there's just so much to do, I forgot about your arrival, heh.”

On the other side snorted in disbelief, but didn't argue, just asked “to come faster, because it's cold”. The feeling of “something wrong” evaporated, and when he started the car (lamenting on his drivers day off), Stark knew that it was very unlikely Banner would ever return back. He didn't know yet with what forces, but he absolutely knew that he wouldn't be alone anymore.


End file.
